We miss you
by Imagine69
Summary: Each character goes about their lives after endgame, but inevitably one thing or another reminds them of what they've lost. In other words, the Avengers remember Natasha
1. Steve

It was shockingly how fast the world resumed. Trains ran, planes flew, and people went back to work and school and wherever else they usually went. The bankers went straight back to arguing in their high-rise buildings and thousand-dollar suits, and the politicians went straight back to panicking about the economy and the defence force and every other thing that was now totally messed up.

They called the Avengers, of course, and they all had to endure a gruelling 27-hour debrief as they tried to explain what was going on. Eventually, Fury bailed them out, with the promise that Cap would return the stones immediately after Tony's funeral tomorrow, and that the Avengers would jump right into training new recruits and building up a new SHIELD so that they would be better prepared against the next great threat.

And so it was that on the Eve of Tony's funeral, Steve was watching half a dozen youngsters running laps around a makeshift training field with 10 kg packs on their shoulders. He stood to one side of the field, leaning across the metal barrier as the recruits did their twenty 400m laps.

"Pick up the pace, Forster!" Steve yelled at the straggler passing his position, who was a half a lap behind the others. He'd only been training this guy for two days, but he could already see that he was a slacker.

Forster merely glared at him and continued jogging.

"Watch your attitude, or it'll be an extra ten laps for you!" Steve shouted. He was a military man and knew from experience that he had to get this kid in line, or else the recruit would fail his first assessment and they'd lose him for good.

"With all due respect, Captain, you're not the punishing type." Forster retorted, hardly out of breath at all. Definitely not putting in the effort. Why did the kid even sign up?

Steve sighed. This had happened before, so many times. It was almost as though the Snap never happened - nothing had changed.

"You're right," he shouted back. "It's not my style. It's her-"

Steve felt as though an icy fist had grabbed his heart and twisted it sharply. There was no one standing next to him. No one to leap across in two strides and slam the arrogant kid into the ground. No one to hold him in a deadlock, to make him toe the line for at least a month.

Steve's grief must have shown on his face, because Forster's eyes widened with understanding and he quickly doubled his pace and ran off, catching up with the others.

Steve turned away from the field and surreptitiously wiped a tear from his cheek. No, he thought, everything had changed.

"I miss you Nat," he whispered.


	2. Tony

The gauntlet was assembled. Time to get everyone together.

"Where is everyone anyway?" Rocket asked, voicing exactly what Tony was thinking.

"I'll go find them," Tony replied.

He went for a stroll around the building. It was just as well that there was so much glass around the place, because it made it easier to track everyone down.

Thor was in the garden, leaning against a tree and tossing his hammer repeatedly, letting it revolve several times before he caught it.

"Come on, Thor, let's go."

"With you in a bit."

Clint was polishing his arrows. His hand slipped and he stabbed his thigh with an arrow, but he didn't seem to notice and kept rubbing the grubby cloth up and down the metal arrow shaft.

"Uh, Clint, you're bleeding."

"Huh? Oh. Oops."

Bruce was by the lake He'd finally tired of throwing things and was skipping stones across the water, watching the ripples come and go.

"Bruce, come on in."

Bruce spun around in surprise at hearing Tony's voice, and promptly fell backwards into the water with a huge splash.

Steve and Rhodey were in the kitchen, making peanut butter sandwiches. There was now a sizable stack of sandwiches. Tony reached forward to grab one, suddenly realising how hungry he was.

"Done with the glove, let's go."

"Yep, coming."

Nebula was with Scott by the quantum tunnel. They both sat in silence, simply staring at the technology. Perhaps they were wondering if it had really happened at all.

"Come on, guys, we're ready to go." Nebula and Scott slowly got to their feet, so Tony left the room and returned to Rocket.

Rocket looked at him questioningly.

"I thought you went to fetch the others," he said pointedly, looking around at the empty room.

"They're coming," Tony said with a sigh.

Rocket raised an eyebrow. "You're not very good at fetching."

"You know, it's not really my area of expertise. Assembling the Avengers is something I generally delegate to the Cap or -"

Tony stopped. He was about to say 'or Nat'. Natasha was the glue of the team, holding it all together when everything had fallen apart. She'd kept going for five years, never giving up, not even when it cost her her life.

Rocket was right - getting everyone together wasn't Tony's forte. Steve assembled them, and Nat held them together. Well, they'd assembled. Now they had to figure out how to stick together without her.

"I miss you, Nat." Tony whispered.

Rocket, the only person within earshot, simply sighed and silently echoed the sentiment.


	3. Bruce

Bruce rubbed his eyes wearily. He gingerly picked up his coffee cup and took a sip - everything had to be done gingerly these days, lest he break something accidentally. He was used to it now though; it had become second nature to check his strength in everything he did. The Hulk was a very strong fellow.

He turned back to the computer screen and sighed at the endless lists of folders and files that he still had to sort through. Archiving was no mean feat. But it had to be done. If the Avengers were going to take their responsibility seriously to protect this precious new world, they had to get themselves organised. No past mistake would be overlooked and repeated. They had to be better. They had to make the sacrifices worth it.

Bruce took another sip of coffee and double-clicked the next file. He was going through the quinjet's records. This was probably going to be another one of Clint's standard pilot reports. Checking in. Coordinates. Retro-reflection still working. Roger, Out.

His heart suddenly leapt in his chest when a female voice came through the speakers. Soft, concerned, commanding and just a little be desperate. This was the voice that had brought him home. All those galaxies away, pushed away from the steering wheel by 'the other guy'...it was her voice that had brought back Bruce Banner.

He'd forgotten how Nat's hair used to be all red and curly. The way it framed her face and brought out her eyes. Bruce couldn't help but tear up as he gazed into her eyes through the screen. She was begging him to come home.

"We can't track you while you're in stealth mode."

His hands curled into fists. The table beneath the computer screen suddenly had two new dents in it.

"Turn this bird around."

If only he had...what would have happened then? What sort of life could he have had?

Bruce shook his head angrily. 'What if's would only make it hurt all the more.

The video suddenly cut out, and Bruce realised that this was the moment that Nat had been cut off by none other than the Hulk himself. She was begging him to come home and he'd hung up on her.

He couldn't even go find her and apologise. He never had, he realised. There was so much that he'd never said to her, and now she was gone.

"I miss you, Nat," he whispered at the blank screen, a single tear running down the green skin of his cheek.


End file.
